


The (mis)Adventures of Malrium Hawke

by TheSnake



Series: Hawkes [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Amnesia for Fenris, Hawke Has A Twin, Hawke is a Slave, M/M, Sex Slave, Sexual Abuse, Slavery, There's a lot of blood and a bit of blood, Twin AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-15 20:20:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7237042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSnake/pseuds/TheSnake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malrium was a happy boy. He had two parents, three brothers and a sister. All he had to do all day was either play or help his mother out.</p><p>But people don't get to be happy for long now do they.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Act 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am still not awake for this.  
> I don't even know how this thing was born so have at it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which everything was fine then shit happens.

He was five when he first saw a murder.

Two Templars came to the small village of Honnleath with a black haired boy.

The one of the templar was bartering with a merchant while the other went to the chantry when he approached the boy, he greet him. The boy turned. Blank black eyes met sliver blue.

Something wasn’t right with him, his first thought. His eyes traveled upwards then widened.

Sitting on his forehead was the sunburst of the chantry, as though mocking him as he stared at it. He remembers the lessons his father gave him about the Circle of Magi, of the tranquil.

 _So this is a Tranquil,_ he thought as he continued to stare, _but he’s so young!_

The black haired boy must have noticed him staring and started to make conversation, “Hello, my name is Aides.”

He jumped slightly; the boy’s tone was emotionless. “I-I’m Malrium.”

Aides looked at him, just _looked_ with those expressionless eyes of him as though examining him with eyes, calculating what to do with him.

Malrium shake him head, “Sorry for staring, I just never seen a Tranquil before.”

“I am Tranquil,” he said with that monotonous voice of his, “You do not have to apologize.”

Aides turned and followed the leaving templar before he could continue the conversation, leaving him standing there alone trying to get his thoughts together until his brother found him and pulled him back home for dinner.

That night he woke up screaming, his father sat with him as he cried into his shirt.

 _I-I don’t want to be made tranquil,_ he sobbed, _please don’t let them h-have me._

His father pressed a kiss into his hair, _I promise._

Malrium, for the first time, was glad that he didn’t show signs of magic. _Yet._

He met the boy three days later, in the woods surrounding the village.

He and Julvian were playing hide and seek when realized the sky turned black and the sun was replaced with the moon, so they both raced back home for dinner.

He decided to use a shortcut he found out earlier, he took a sharp turn and his foot stepped into something wet.

Malrium glanced down and saw red; his eyes followed the trail, finding more red before reaching the center.

The whole clearing was covered with blood, the trees surrounding it were splashed with it and he saw bits of meat in it. He couldn’t find a body, but the clearing was littered with human remains, a leg here, a decapitated head there, an arm hanging of a branch of a tree. Bits of armor that reminded him of the Templers that came few days earlier were attached to some of the parts.

In the center was an alter, like ritual alters he read in father’s books. Like the clearing, it was covered with blood as he walked towards it.

Something cold grabbed onto his legs suddenly, causing him to lose his balance and fall onto his rear. He winced at the pain but it was quickly replaced with fear when he started to pull him closer to the altar.

The thing was pitch black and tentacle like, he couldn’t stop it as its grip was too strong and the grass was too slippery to grab hold of. As he got closer, he could make out a small figure leaning on the alter.

It was the same black haired boy he met three days ago, but the mark on his forehead was faded and instead of blankness his eyes were filled with emotion. His body was trembling violently; his mouth opened and out came a word.

“H-help.”

Malrium then realized that the boy had his hands over his stomach, trying to cover up what seems to be a rather bad stab wound.

He heard footsteps and a gasps behind him and saw Aides’ shoulders tensed. He turned around and immediately shouted when he saw who it was.

“Juls, go get papa, NOW!”

He turned his head back to Aides, he was relieved when the shadow-tentacle-thing let go when he crawled closer to the boy.

Malrium tried to do what he could to help, he tried to stop the bleeding with his hands, but it was still flowing out when it should be in. Aides grew paler, slowly laying onto the ground as his energy escaped him.

Malrium started panicking; tears filled in his eyes as he’s frustration grew.

“Please don’t fall asleep,” he called when he saw Aides’ eyes fluttering close, “If you go to sleep you won’t wake up again.”

He heard him muttered something as he fell unconscious. _Please stop bleeding!_ His mind cried, _STOP._

Suddenly, his hands started to glow; he could feel the power that grew in him as he willed the wound close. The wound closed slowly but steadily, in his mind’s eye he could see the insides mending together, his power made new skin to replace the old. The wound was healed and he felt tired, more tired and drained then that time he helped his papa with the firewood.

Malrium leaned forward until his head was pillowed on Aides’ chest, he could feel a soft but steady sound coming from the boy under him.

A thought threw in his mind when his eyes closed and footsteps were approaching him.

_I’m a mage._

He wasn’t sure if he was happy or scared.

 

* * *

 

He was eleven when he was captured by the Templers.

After his magic manifested, his father taught him how to control his magic, warning him not to get too close to the Templers lest they find out.

Aides became his and Julvian’s brother, now recently, Carver and Bethany’s too. He couldn’t control his emotions when he first lived with them, having random mood swing and would retreat into his mind, his magic would have random outburst and he spent most of his time in door. But slowly and steadily, with his parent’s help and he and Jul’s stubbornness they managed to help him put his problems under control.

Malrium is happy with this development, he wasn’t the eldest anymore and Aides could help his father with the outdoor chores. Personally he preferred to play with his brother or help his mother with the cooking.  He likes Aides a lot, too. He was smart and funny when he wants to be, though his cheeks would turn pink when they played together but his face would go back to normal when he glanced back at him.

At night, Aides would sneak into his and Juls’s bed. Awoken and trembling by his nightmares, they didn’t question him as they arranged themselves on the bed, Aides in the middle with the twins on either sides of the bed.

Malrium was healing a wounded deer out in the woods, his papa told him not to do magic where people could see him but no one was here except for Julvian and himself.

When he here someone approaching, he thought it was his twin but when he turned his head to greet him, his face paled as the sword of mercy stared back.

The templar held his arms out and walked towards him slowly as though nearing a scared animal. “Don’t panic, tell me where your parents are and talk this out.”

He tried to make a run for it but another templar came from behind him, cornering from both sides. At the corner of his eye he saw Juls hiding behind some bushes, eyes widen with fear.

 _Run!_  Malrium’s eyes screamed, _Run before the Templers find papa and Aides!_

He saw Juls nodding his head and dashed away, he let the Templers take him away, knowing that his family would be safe.

The Templers tried to get information out of him, way to the tried to get his name, information on his family, where did he live. Malrium remained tight lipped and only said, “My parents are dead.”

The Templers gave up, decided that he wouldn’t answer and made way towards the nearest circle.

One of them offered him cookies, his eyes kind; he didn’t look like the men papa described in his stories. Malrium didn’t know if the man was being genuinely kind or he was like the demons in the fade, tempting him with magic.

He accepted the cookie.

They were ambushed by a large group of slavers.

The man with kind eyes died trying to protect him, he fell after too many arrows through the back, his armor clanking loudly as he hit the ground. His partner died cleaved clean into halves by a huge axe.

A slaver dropped down to his height and grabbed his chin roughly, raising his eyes to meet his.

“We’ve got a pretty one boys!” he breath smelled of meat and something sour, “He’s going to fetch a good price.”

Heavy chains bounded his wrist and he was put together with other people, there were elves and humans alike, there was even a large man with horns like sheep on his head.

They reached a strange place, far from home. He could hear people talking in a strange tongue as he was led through the crowd, rich men and women dressed in beautiful and expansive robes, most of them were accompanied by s servant.

 _Slave,_ his mind supplied, _and you going to be one of them._

He was bought by a man with graying hair and wicked eyes gleaming with something bad that he couldn’t describe.

Malrium broke down on his birthday that year.

 

* * *

 

He was thirteen when he met him.

Malrium was in the court yard tending to the flowers when the new slave walked by, from what he heard his whole family was bought. He was taller than most elves, black fluffy hair resting on his head like a nest. The boy must have noticed him staring because he turned to look his way. Malrium did the first thing that came to mind.

He smile and gave a small wave.

The boy looked startled, after a moment’s of hesitation, he nodded back and quickly walked away.

Malrium turned back to his work feeling happier, he thought back to the boy’s expression. _I thought I saw him blushing, must be my imagination._

Days went by, he and the boy –Leto- became quick friends. At night when the city was asleep, Malrium would teach Leto how to read common, in change that Leto taught him how to speak Tevene. If the other slaves noticed their closeness, they didn’t comment on it. (He showed him his magic once, they forgo the lessons that night as Leto watched him make ice sculpture of dragons ) But the old elven woman in charge of him would mention him when they were together. “Leto is a nice boy.”

Malrium’s heart lifted when he heard his friend’s name, “Yes he is.”

“It’s good that you found a friend here, Mal.”

He gave her a grin, “You’re my friend too, Cora.”

A warm smile spread on her wrinkled face, “It would seem so.”

 

* * *

 

He wasn’t even fourteen when his master first touched him.

He was cleaning his master’s study room that afternoon, arranging the piles of notes scribbled in tevene and symbols he saw once in his p-, _once._

 _Don’t think of them,_ he chanted in his head, _It’s bad to think of good memories, good memories bring sadness and pain._

A shadow fell over around and he turned to see who it was.

His master –Danarius- was standing very close to him, his hips almost touching his rear. He felt shivers go down his spine when his master’s breath prickled the skin on his neck.

“I’ve watched you, little bird,” he murmured softly into his ear, “I saw you doing magic.”

Malrium scolded himself for his foolishness, he just _had_ to heal that cat didn’t he.

Cold hands rest upon his hips, his thumbs rubbing circle into his skin. “I will forgive this time, little one, I will get a mage slave to teach you how to use the power you have. But for now, show me how you thank your master.”

His master led him to his bed chambers, ordered him to strip him and himself.

Danarius’ mouth pulled his into a punishing kiss when they were both naked, his hand handling his chin roughly as Malrium moaned. When it ended he sat down on the bed and pushed him to his knees, his eye level at his groin.

“Take it into your mouth,” he ordered. “Use those soft lips of yours.”

A small part of his mind screamed at him not to do it but its voice was distant compared to the loyal part of him.

 _He is your master, he owns you._ His mind whispered, _He’s letting you learn magic again, you should thank him._

The rebellious part of his mind cried when his lips wrapped around the tip of his master dick. He licked the tip of the shaft before pulling away, licking the sides of the dick. He didn’t know what he was doing but from the sounds his master was making he wasn’t doing bad.

Malrium took the tip into his mouth again and sucked, tongue flicking on the tip every so often. He felt a hand on his head and long fingers grab hold of his hair and pulled sharply, but no enough to pull him off.

Then the hand pushed his head down hard.

The white haired boy’s eyes widen and tried to pull back, his master allowed him to breathe but quickly forced his head down again. He throat protested when the invading organ caused discomfort but he forced the pain down and breathe through his nose. His hands were trembling on his master thighs as he did his best to take him in, he could only take in half way because of his small mouth but he did quick work on the cock. Mal flatten his tongue the best he could, hollowed his cheeks and sucked. Danarius let out a pleased sigh from above as he played with his shoulder length hair.

“You are clearly born for this, little bird.” Mal could hear the smirk in his voice, “Born to be on your knees, worshiping your master.”

The dick in his mouth began to harden and salty fluid started to flow down his throat. His master pulled his head up suddenly and ordered him into his lap.

Mal could feel the harden cock in the cleft of his ass, rubbing his asshole. Two fingers appeared force their way into his mouth and pressed down onto his tongue.

 He took the cue and sucked on the digits, covering them thoroughly with saliva. His master removed them and pressed his pointer finger on his entrance.

It only accrued to him then on how far his master was going when said finger entered him.

Mal grabbed onto the older man’s shoulders and moaned as the finger worked him open, pushing in and out, not long after the second finger joined it and began scissoring roughly.

“M-master- AHH!” Mal shouted when the fingers were removed and his master’s hard shaft pushed in. As he was prepared sloppily the pain brought tears to his eyes and his fingers to tighten their hold. He cried out in pain when his master started moving.

“My my, you’re still so tight after I prepared you,” his master’s voice was filled with pleasure, his took Mal’s hardening cock into his hand and pumped. “And whats this? You naughty boy.”

Mal’s eyes snapped opened, threw his head back and _screamed_ when he hit a certain bundle of nerve. Before he knew it he was on his back with one of his legs over Danarius’ shoulder with his pace quickened. His hands reached blindly and grabbed fitfuls of the sheets surrounding him.

Danarius’ thrust were quick and punishing, sending shocks of pain and pleasure –mostly pain- through his care, his entrance stretched wide open for the cock to push in and out. Mal was already reaching his limit when something blocked his way to release.

“I didn’t allow you to come, little bird.”

Tears streamed down his flushed face and he could feel himself drooling, “Ple-please master _please_ It h-hurt please let- me—AAHH MASTER PLEASE—“

Danarius ignored his pleads and quicken his pace, his grip only tightened. With a grunt he came with a powerful thrust that caused Mal to moan loudly. Mal whimpered when he pulled out, but quickly realized that the grip on his dick didn’t loosen.

“You are a naughty boy, Malrium.” The hand began pumping him, causing him to moan. “I did this to you because you wanted it, you moved like a whore begging for someone to fill you up, to use you like a  _thing_.”

He let go and Mal came with a shout. He lay there limp, covered with sweat and his own spent, he shivered as he felt fluid leaking out between his thighs. A hand brushed his sweat soaked hair from his eyes lightly.

“You belong to me and only to me,” Danarius whispered almost fondly, “I own you, your body and you soul, you understand that?”

He nodded his head.

When he walked back to the slave chambers that night, Leto was waiting at the usual spot for me. His face looked happy to see him but quickly fell when he got closer. They spent the rest of their time sitting together, his head resting on Leto’s shoulder.

The next day he was moved to the side room of his master’s chamber.

By the end of the week he became his master’s ‘entertainer.’

 


	2. Act 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I promise that shit gets better.

His sixteenth year was both wonderful and terrible.

Just like his master said, a tutor came and taught him magic, he would teach him the basics –He remembers a bit of it- and quickly found out his talents lies in creation, elemental and arcane.

Mal found out about arcane quite on accident when an assassin tried to kill his master. The assassin was turned into a pile of minced meat soon after.

He does his best to absorb as much knowledge as possible, tries to understand how said magic work, tries to make some spells work better, Leto would almost always find him surrounded by piles of books.

He would surprise his master with the amount of knowledge he has, some theories Danarius himself never heard of.

“You would have made a great apprentice.” He once said.

Malrium doubts that, he was a slave, a good slave mind you but still a slave.

It also wasn’t good that he said that in the presences of his current apprentice, a woman name Hadriana. The woman was spiteful and full of jealousy that every moment when his master wasn’t near, she would find some way to torment him.

“Oh dear, you are very clumsy, _slave_.” She purred when he _tripped on air_ and fell onto the ground, handful with his master’s paperwork. “Continue on like that and I’d have you punished.”

No matter how much he would do for his master he is tempted to throw a winter’s grasp at her, or five.

He became many things over the past few years; he would be the pleasure slave, entertaining his master and his guests.

(Rough hands grabbing onto him, forcing him into different positions, his jaw was aching, his back _hurts_ and voices, some many voice _please master please-)_

He would be the kind boy who treats the other slaves kindly, a nice shoulder to lean on, a great friend to a certain elf.

(“Leto look at this, I did it!”)

He would be Master’s personal assassin and bodyguard.

In addition with his magic tutor, his master had him trained in the art of blades, in the ways of the assassins.

“You are very beautiful, my pet.” He says, a cold hand caressing his cheek. “Use your beauty as a weapon, be my blade, destroy my enemies and I will reward you.”

Master sends him to his enemies with a false smile and ‘as a gift’. He would flutter his eyelashes, do a little dance and entertain. The next day the person would be found dead, sometimes poisoned or with a slit throat, other times covered with blood, they’re face full of terror.

 

* * *

 

 

Master would bring him down with him into the dungeons as his guard. He has grown used to the experiments there, he face blank when another live was lost, drowned by lyrium.

At night he would pretend the screams he hears in his dreams were the screams and curses of demons.

Only once he was affected by an experiment gone wrong.

This time, Master brought spirits into play, calling on demons with his blood and tries to merge it with the poor soul lying on the stone table. But not only did he called on a demon, he brought a powerful spirit into the scene.

An explosion happened and before he realize it he was on all four over his unconscious master, a barrier formed around them, magic was filled with powerful and calming magic. A white glowing figure flouted towards him, an arm outstretched. Its mouth moved but music flowed out instead of words.

The hand touched his head and he felt the urge to _relax._

He awoke to the concerned face of his best friend.

“You’re awake.”

**_I am glad you are unharmed._ **

His eyes widen at the unfamiliar voice, he sat up and looked around, eyes trying to find the source of the voice.

Leto looked worried, wished him well before fleeing as he was not allowed here.

**_I am Compassion,_** the voice says, as on cue calming energy flowed through his body. **_It seems that we are merged._**

_It would seem so,_ he replied, _My name is Malrium._

People always commented that he was an odd one, if only they could see him now, talking to a spirit that is currently stuck in his head, it was a rather interesting conversation with the fade and some magic thrown in it.

When Master came in, he should have told him about the spirit, he should have told him about it before he pushed him down onto his back, when his thighs spread for him, when moans and groan came out of his mouth.

But he didn’t something about the spirit made him possessive. Master owns him yet, the spirit wasn’t his so therefore his master does not have to trouble himself with it.

They talked often, the spirit would comment on the things around him, on the people and the places.

It would talk a lot when he was spending time with Leto, times when the elf would smile instead of scowl, when he could make that deep rich voice laugh in delight, just as he heart would flutter and his stomach would feel strange.

**_He is a nice lad._ **

_He is._

**_He’s thinking about competing in the tournament Danarius is hosting._ **

_...._

Malrium is going to have to get used to the idea of Compassion able to read people’s thoughts.

**_Worries and thoughts, would I be able to win? The boon could free mother and Varania._ **

_Compassion, it’s rude to listen to people’s thoughts._

**_His are_** **loud,** He is positive that the spirit just whined, **_He thinks of you often as well._**

Nope he’s not to thinking about him, _Nope._

**_Now you are thinking of him._ **

_Compassion please._

He _swears_ he heard the damn spirit giggling.

 

* * *

 

 

Leto won.

Malrium stood at his master’s side when as he watched Leto cut down enemies one by one. His right hand twitching every so often when Leto took a bad hit or a close call and he is proud to say that Master didn’t realize him sighing in relief.

The boon was given and, just as Compassion said, Leto wasted no time to use the money and freed his family. His master had a glint in his eyes when they approached the elf, a glint he was familiar with.

“Master,” he said quietly as they walked down the stair, “Are you going to use Leto as the next vessel?”

His master didn’t look at him. “As always you catch on quickly, my little bird. You are correct; he might even make the experiment successful.”

After they brought Leto down into the dungeons and the healer examined, Malrium tried to keep his mind blank, tries to ignore Leto’s confused face when he was chained down and drugged, tries to ignore Compassions pleads for him to stop it and the screams that filled the chamber shortly after.

**_Pain, so much pain, stop, make it stop, why master, pleasepleasePLEASE STOP SOMEONE ANYONE PLEASE MALRIUM-_ **

He turned his eyes away and tried not to cry inside.

Malrium brought the older boy out of the dungeons personally after the ritual, his master was beyond satisfied with the results, a madden grin spread on his face with eyes filled with emotions he dare not acknowledge.

He looks Leto over after he laid him down on the second bed in the room he sleeps in. He brushes a few locks of hair that turned white away, revealing the three white dots that sat on his forehead.

Malrium’s lips brushed on said forehead before getting up and returning to his duties, Master’s guests are waiting.

 

* * *

 

 

For the first time in his life, he questions his master.

Leto - _Fenris-_ had lost all his memories after the ritual. He spent a lot of time to convince the elf, to be his friend again.

“I was your friend, Leto; please you have to believe me.”

“ _I am no longer Leto,_ my name is _Fenris.”_ Lyrium marks flaring.

Even if it kills him inside, a bit at a time.

“I’m sorry, please, let me be your friend Fenris.”

“…..very well, I will give you a chance.”

But it was worth it.

Master refuses to tell him about his past, about the time he spent here before his hair turned white and markings were carved into his flesh. Mal tried to ask why once.

“Do not worry little bird.” He voice gentle and smooth, “I will tell him when I decide it.”

That was the first time he disobeyed his master by going against his wishes. He tells Fenris about his family, about the mother and sister he competed to free, about the time they spent together in the small room they now share when their master was not available or when either of them were free.

He would listen with wide green eyes filled with curiosity for the life he doesn’t remember living.

Malrium’s heart broke further when Fenris flinched at the sight of his magic.

 

Master would have Fenris watch when he uses him. Only once did he make him join.

“Would you like a taste of this, my little wolf?” he purrs from the bed with his cock buried deep, Malrium’s pants filled the sleeping chambers. “He feels so _good_ and _tight_.”

His words may be shaped into a question but his tone was anything but. Fenris hesitated at first, before ridding his body of his armor and climbed onto the bed.

Malrium cried out at the emptiness that was suddenly there, his hands straining from its bonds, his hips aching up, his body trembling.

Fenris crawled over him, his face flushed but determined. But he was quick to please their master and soon he was filled again.

He could see his master sitting at the side of the bed, a smirk on his face and fingers curled around his penis.

“Thrust harder, little wolf, make the bird _scream_.”

Fenris did just that, grabbing hold of Mal’s hips and _pushed_. His movement fast and powerful and the bird was _howling_ when he hit that special spot.

“Use your mouth,” lips were upon him instantly, the kiss was clumsy but grew heated when Mal kissed back with just as much force, tongues dueling and exploring each other’s mouth.

A pleased sigh was heard, then Fenris eyes widen in surprise and his head snapped up. Their master has joined them.

Master entered in one single thrust, not even letting him get used to the feeling before pounding at earnest. Malrium could see the tears that filed his eyes, his teeth clenched in pain.

Malrium leaned up and gave a soft peck on those soft lips, trying to calm him, to do anything to ease the pain. _I’m so sorry._

When it was over, Danarius left the room for a meeting, leaving them lying on the bed, panting and sore.

Green eyes met sliver blue. “Is that what you go through every time?”

He nodded.

“How can you stand it?”

The younger boy gave a tried smile, “Even if I can’t, what can I do about it.”

He continued as he got off the bed to clean up, “Danarius is our master, my master, and I would give my life for him,” that strangely left a bad taste in his mouth. “But we are all expandable. I would just be replaced when he’s bored with me.” _This is the only thing I’m actually good at._

Fenris turned his head away, “But I am too valuable.”

The room was silence as Malrium walked to the bathing chambers.

 

* * *

 

 

Fenris was gone.

_Fenris was gone._

That thought echoed in his mind ever since Master came back wounded and tired and angry.

Few months ago, when master came back from Seheron without the white haired elf, Malrium was already worried.

_It’ll be fine, he’ll be fine, Master would find and bring him back._

**_Yet part of you doesn’t want him back._ **

_Compassion this isn’t the time._

**_You don’t want him back, not because you hate him-_ **

_GO AWAY!_

The first time he yelled at his friend, he immediately felt guilty and apologized. The spirit didn’t blame him, but did don’t say more on the matter.

Master went to Seheron again with a group of his guards when he was on a mission. He came back to the mansion with Hadriana in charge and had to put up with the bitch for two weeks.

“Fenris has escaped,” Master spat out when he was attending to his wounds. “I will get him back no matter what.”

Malrium glanced at his master, his hands glowing with healing magic. “Master, please stop moving.”

“Silence bitch!” His right cheek sting, his master’s left hand in the air, “Do not talk to me with that attitude, know your place!”

Malrium kept his head low. The corner of his mouth twitched.

_Stay safe….amor._

He ignores the giggles that came from a certain spirit.

 

* * *

 

 

He made someone new when he was twenty.

It’s been a year since Fenris escaped, every slaver that was sent never returned and with that his master grew angrier.

He and Hadriana are currently at the inn there were staying at while he was out buying food. It was refreshing, being at the market, he loves food, loves making it and eating it. I bought himself a few candies with the money he looted from some poor bandit. (The money he kept away from his master, just in case)

With his hands full he made his way back to the inn when he was suddenly grabbed from behind and thrown over a shoulder. The food fell to the ground as he banging his fists on the person’s back.

“Let me go you-” the curse that came out of his mouth could make a veteran raider blush to the tips of his ears. Then he hit himself mentally for his stupidity and sent shocks of electricity and frost onto the person’s skin. He eyes widen in surprise when his magic bounced off like nothing. His eyes made out a thin layer of magic that was protecting said person.

He realized that his mind was quiet, usually in these kinds of situations the spirit would have worrying like a mother hen and helpfully sending painful spells at his enemy.

**_White hair like pure snow, he looks just like him. Why was he wearing a collar, what is happening? So much anger, where does it come from?_ **

From the sounds of it this person was either a stalker or a psychopath. He didn’t like it.

“That was rather awful language coming from a person like you.”

The slave turned his head and saw horns.

“Wha-release me Qunari!”

The hand on his waist tightened, “I am Vasoth.”

Not wanting to anger his captor, he shut his mouth and finally took in his surroundings, the Qu-Vasoth was moving at an alarming speed, trees flashed by and the wind rushing past his ears, and it was as though he jumped off a tall tree to feel like a dragon, flying.

**_I can’t read his thoughts; he has a mental wall up._ **

The one time he wanted Compassion to snoop at someone’s thoughts it doesn’t work, of course that happens.

The world slowly returned back to normal and the man stopped. He was raised and then lowered onto the ground. Before his feet could touch the floor he sent a high kick aiming for the Vasoth’s face. He leaned his head backwards and returned a knee strike of his own. Malrium jumped up, twirling his body around and threw an ice cone at the man but it was countered with a sudden wall of fire.

Malrium back flipped away from the stranger. He eyes sweep his surroundings, trying to find something to use to his advantage then suddenly, the air around him started moving rapidly, wrapping around his body and successfully trapping him.

The Vasoth approached him, “I mean no harm,” his voice had a slight accent, “My name is Anaan.”

Malrium narrowed his eyes, “For what reason that caused you to capture me, if you have anything against my master I’m not saying a word.”

The Vasoth’s eyes flashed with hidden anger but it went away just as quickly as it came. “No, I took you away because I wish to free you.”

“And how so do you know I am a slave?”

Anaan waved his hand at the band on his neck. “I recognized those runes; they are written in tevene and are meant for slaves.” Said runes glowed violently and Malrium winched at the pain. But it stopped suddenly and he felt the ever presents of the band gone.

“But now you are free.”

Without the band there, it was strange to feel his neck naked after so many years. The wind barrier around him faded away. Malrium stood there, studying the strange Vasoth. He was clearly a mage but something felt…off, the magic he felt was old, _really_ old and powerful.

A large gray hand was raised, “I offer you to travel with me for as long as you are willing.”

Malrium took a step back when Compassion’s earlier words came back to him.

“I know what that spirit said.”

He couldn’t hide his flinch.

“It means nothing, you just remind me…of an old friend.”

“Is that the reason you kidnapped me?”

A pause, “Part of it, yes.”

Malrium sighed out of his nose, he must be crazy.

He took the hand.

 

* * *

 

 

He was having the time of his life.

Malrium was about to thank the man are saving him with the only way he knew. But when Anaan saw him he was quickly raise to his feet.

Hands were clasped on his shoulders, not too roughly but not gently either, “Never,” he whispered, “Do _that_ again.”

Confusion filled him, (but he felt relief from Compassion) “What?”

Anaan looked at him square in the eye. “I don’t know what you were taught but I don’t care, but offering someone your body is _wrong._ ”

“But-”

A thumb was placed on his lips and he fought down the instant to take it in his mouth. “ _Malrium listen,_ promise me, don’t offer your body to anyone but a person you love and trust.”

Malrium felt conflicted, what was he doing wrong? Every time he did this his target never rejected, let it be male or female. _What was he doing wrong?_

“Y-yes I promise.”

The hands grip became gentle, “I don’t mean to force this on you, and I will explain it to you.”

The first few days were awkward, but with Compassion’s urging and his own attempts they slowing formed a bond. Malrium told him about his life with Danarius, allowing himself for the first time in years to think of the family he hasn’t seen in years. He told him about Leto and Fenris.

Anaan sat there, listening with a patient ear, letting him rant on for hours at a time. He would add a few lines in and offer a bit of advice here and there. Mal would always feel better after the talks.

The Vasoth said that he came from the lands far away from Thedas, even further than Pal Vallen, -he been there once- where the fade doesn’t exist and there were no mages, because almost everyone could use magic, but they call it Chi. He would have this peaceful look on his face when he talks about his homeland that he haven’t seen for a long time.

“Those that mean that you are a Kossith?” he asked one day, remembering the word from a book in Danarius’ library.

“Who knows,” he turned his gaze to the night sky, “I’m not even sure myself.”

 

Anaan is a skilled and powerful mage, experienced with a bow and deadly with blades. He encourages his thirst for knowledge and taught him skill he never heard of. How to paralyze an opponent with a touch of a palm or to slow them down; How to arm yourself with ice or fire and how to strike faster than the eyes could follow.

He commends the winds, bending them to his will, something that was very rare. (From what he read.) And he could shapshift.

-He begged him to teach how to change forms and after days of endless begging and puppy eyes Anaan accepted.-

**_I like him,_** Compassion said pleasantly, **_We should stay with him._**

_Aren’t we already doing that?_

**_More permanently._ **

_….._

Anaan was radiating with barely hidden joy and happiness when he told him.

“I thank you.”

Malrium didn’t know what he was thanking for but he didn’t care.

He was happy.

 

 

 

(This little shit is Anaan if anyone's wondering. I've forgot' to draw his staff do ignore that.)

((I do not know how to work with the picture settings.))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only time i can write stuff is when the moon is out and everyone's asleep so yes I'm sleepy.  
> I need to find a time to write while actually being awake.
> 
> The chapter(s)? after this would just be random stuff that happened in the story that wouldn't fit. So stay toned if you want some!


	3. Act 3 (Extras)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The stuff that couldn't fit in the main story.  
> And it's reaaally random.

"Have you ever kissed anyone before?"

The younger boy looked he at his friend, "You just saw me kissing Cora just now."

Leto shook his head, black hair bouncing slightly. "Not like that, like the kisses couples do, I think."

Malrium shrugged, "No then."

Silence.

He spoke up again, "Do you to try it?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Kissing."

Leto choked on air and coughed, " What, now?"

Malrium nodded.

"I guess we chould..."

The younger boy grin and came closer until their faces were only a few hair's apart. His eyes fluttered close.

Surprisingly, Leto was the one who made the first move, pressing his mouth against his. His lips warm and soft and a bit dry but he wasn't one to judge.

Malrium made a bold move and lick his friend's bottom lip.

Leto pulled away sharply and he regret his stunt immediately. He opened his mouth to apologize but Leto beat him to it.

"I apologize," his dark face slightly red. "I was...surprised that you did that. Why did you do that?"

Malrium could feel his own face heat up slightly, "I,um, saw someone do that, they looked like they were enjoying it."

And he avoided walking through alley ways after that, seeing two half naked people could do that to you.

He snapped out of his daydream when Leto cleared his throat loudly. "Maybe we could...do this again, later?"

Malrium hoped that his own dark skin hid his growing blush. "SURE! I mean, um, of course, If you like to do that again."

A slight smile appeared on Leto's face. "Later, then."

Later, he made his way to his master's study room.

 

* * *

 

"AHHHHHHH!!"

Anaan jumped off his bed and ran to the room Malrium was staying in. They rented two rooms in the inn for a few days before they would set out again.

The door hit against the wall with a bang. "Malrium what happened is there-"

He trailed off when he took in the situation.

"Some...thing, Malrium."

Said man was standing on his bed, a spell readied in his left hand and a bundle of seat clunched in the other.

"Anaan," he hissed, " Kill that monstrosity before it gets me."

With eight legs and a hairy body said monstrosity twitched and started to move towards the human.

The former assassin shrieked and made a rather impressive jump towards him.

Anaan now have his hands full with human.

"Malrium it's in the middle's of the night."

"Kill it."

"Malrium please."

"Please kill it."

The spider moved.

"ITS MOVINGGGGGG!!" Anaan mentally facepalmed, he felt like he's going to have to meet an angry inn keeper.

 

* * *

 

To put it frankly, Dorian Pavus was bored.

He was walking through the busy market, salesmen selling their wares to wealthy people, slaves carrying their master's items, maybe some pickpockets here and there, nothing really interesting happening.

The teen made a turn into a alleyway he knew, at the end there was a small clearing with a few sacks laying around at the side, but the main thing was the short but thick tree right in the middle, the branches hanged low and the leaves were so thick you can't see the sunlight from under it.

He sat at the base, not caring about his robes for once, and enjoyed the peace and quiet. The noise coming front the market was distant and almost unnoticeable.

Not long after he heard footsteps approaching but he stayed where he was, not at all worried.

The person came out of the shadows, their snowy white hair moving slightly to their steps, the person nodded at him before sitting down next to him, not too far but close enough to not cause him discomfort.

They started coming about a few months ago, Dorian was wary at first, but slowly relaxed when nothing happens. They would come once a month, just sitting there, not saying or doing anything.

Then Dorian saw them at Danarius' party, as a slave. He didn't mind nor care, really.

But even after almost two years of this, he still could't tell if the person was a girl or boy. Their face was not only femininely beautiful but also masculine handsome. They were lean and not too short or too tall and would always be wearing a shirt and pants, although the their chest appeared to be flat you can't really just tell with that. To sum it all together they were the perfect balance of both male and female.

Plus they were easy on the eyes so he wasn't complaining.

This continued on for several more year before the person stopped come. He thought Danarius' was just keeping them busy but word got out that the Magister lost two of his prized slaves.

And everyone knew who they were, their hair colour identical.

Yet still Dorian would still go there, sometimes months at a time but he never stopped going there.

 

That night when he was forced to leave. Dorian stood in front of the short tree, still a good meter taller than himself.

He turned and left after a while, not noticing the hawk that flew over head in the night sky.

 

* * *

 

Julvian was sitting on the edge of the wooden platform, looking out at the lake with a blank expression on his face.

_Mals' gone. Taken away by his worst fear._

The lake's surface reflected the late afternoon sun, the water glistening. 

_Why him? Why did they have to take him._

His toes brushed the surface before dipping in slightly, a curious fish came up and nibbed on his feet, but he didn't notice.

_What would they do to him? Mal's a kind and great person. They won't make him tranquil for that, right?_

The fish swam away as a shadow fell over the white haired boy, still he had too much on his mind.

_What if the templars there are worst then the ones father told us about? Omygod Mal can't be mean even if he tried what if they **touch** **him** \- _

He yelled in pain when something hit the back of his head.

"You didn't even notice me come Juls, and I was very loud."

"Well you didn't have to hit me that hard you bastard." Alistair flopped onto the platform nest to him, the younger boy had a wide grin on his face.

"I don't get to sneak up on you easily so I'd take all the chances."

 

"Don't think too hard on it," the blond bumped his friend on the shoulder. "I'm sure your brother's fine."

If Alistair could tell that he was thinking about Malrium then his face must have been like a book, more obvious than a book.

Julvian sighed, "Fine fine you win, now stop moving.

 

 

"Do you wanna go and prank Carver?"

"Let's go."

 

* * *

 

 

Anaan hums, a lot.

Everytime they we're on the road. He could hear him humming to a song. It could be a song from a tavern, a old lullaby parents sing to their children. Most of the time he doesn't recognize the song.

Anaan sings a lot too. A grey warden song, an Orlesion song, a song about mabaries or mages or cheese.

But sometimes, he would sing songs in a language he never heard before, the language sounded old, it suits his accent and when he sings it, his face would be relaxed and his eyes would sparkling, longing.

He found out it was the language of his homeland.

When he showed an interest in learning it, Anaan looked so pleased.

It was like the language was their secret code. They would speak it to avoid people understanding what they were saying. It was so fun and satisfying to see people's face when their faces twisted with confusion. 

He learn enough to sing it with Anaan. Two voices now follow them as they walked.

Malrium felt like he missed hearing it from a different person.

He didn't mind being that person.

 


End file.
